With Your Own Eyes
by madsthenerdygirl
Summary: He knows he curses too much but fuck it's good to see her again.


**Title: With Your Own Eyes**

**Rating: I was feeling adventurous and wanted to try something out of my usual comfort zone – you know, shake things up a bit.**

**Disclaimer: Bram is blasphemy and Finn is seriously angling to annoy me to death so nope, I don't own anything.**

**Summary: He knows he curses too much but **_**fuck**_** it's good to see her again.**

**Author's Note: This is the sequel to "The Real Deal" but can work as a stand-alone.**

If Rachel didn't shut up within the next two seconds, he was going to kill her.

Oh, don't get him wrong. He liked the girl. Dated her for a hot minute, even. But she's got this little habit of hers where she panics and has to control every detail of every minute of everyone in her immediate presence, and it can kind of grate on a guy's nerves.

Puck looked around for a means of escape. Sam and Mercedes had vanished a good five minutes ago with dopey lovey-dovey grins on their faces and Brit and Santana were both doing their best to pretend the other one wasn't in the room, but it looked like Finn, Kurt and Artie were having a fairly decent conversation. He slid over to join them.

"My vote is for _Bye Bye Birdie_." Finn was saying. "We pushed the envelope with _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ the first year, so I think we should stick to more traditional high school musicals. Just until people get used to the idea of McKinley having a musical at all."

"Yes, but _Bye Bye Birdie_? Seriously?" Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I think we could up it to two musicals a year, honestly." Artie said.

"But the drama club does a straight play, don't they?" Finn argued.

"Not since last year. Not enough members." Kurt replied.

"They were all pretty overdramatic, last I noticed." Puck could remember well the overdone sighs and hand gestures that the drama club were a little overly fond of.

"Well, I think we could fit in another one this year." Finn said. "As long as we kept it within budget."

"With _Bye Bye Birdie_ you could reuse the same set pieces. Same if you did _Oklahoma_ and _Annie, Get Your Gun_ next year." Artie pointed out.

"Why not something more edgy?" Puck asked.

"Thank you!" Kurt said.

There was a tap on his shoulder, and Puck turned.

"Look, Rachel, I–" He stopped in his tracks.

She was there. Quinn Fabray. Real. Alive. In front of him.

He could hardly believe his eyes.

"Well, Puckerman?" She asked. "Are you going to just stand there or are you going to use that mouth for something other than gaping at me?"

College had made her sassier.

Puck grabbed her, pulling her in and holding her to him. He wasn't going to kiss her, not in front of everyone. He didn't care but Quinn had never been one for public affection, not from anybody.

"You remember what I told you on the phone?" He asked.

He felt a tremor go through her and she nodded.

"Well come on then." He teased, pulling away.

She surprised him, grabbing his hand and almost dragging him away from the others. "You want something, Q?" He drawled. Her hand tightened and she gave him a look that was equal parts turned on and pissed.

The nearest storage closet was only about twenty feet away, thank God, and she pulled him in, locking the door behind them.

"Let's just say my vibrator is running out of battery." She replied, her eyelids heavy and hooded.

Oh fucking Lord, she couldn't say things like that and expect him to exert any form of self-control. He lunged for her, shoving her back against the door and attacking her. Her skin was impossibly soft, her lip-gloss sweeter than he remembered.

She was much feistier than he remembered, too, her lithe fingers working quickly to undo his pants. "Wanted this…" She stuttered. "Wanted _you_…"

He growled, pressing her even harder into door. This made it a little difficult to get his hands where he wanted them (on her ass, her breasts, her stomach, her face…) but he managed.

Quinn lifted herself up, bucking against him and banging her head slightly against the wall in the process. He got what she meant, though, sliding his hands down her body and grabbing handfuls of her thighs to haul her up. She sighed with contentment, raking her hands over his head and bringing them down to massage his shoulders as he kissed her again.

"You ready?" He whispered. Doubt hit him again, the gnawing fear that she didn't really want this, that she was just being the old Quinn, the one that played games with everyone and everything, including her own heart.

Her eyes were warm and brown and brimming with lust. Her flushed face, her sweaty forehead, her trembling body… all reassured him in a way her words never would. But he appreciated the verbal reply, anyway.

"You're asking me that _now_, Noah Puckerman? If you're not going to finish what you started, I'm going to fucking take care of things myself!"

Did he mention that he loved it when she got demanding?

He didn't mean to slam into her with such force, but the scream she gave was one of relief, her heels digging into his back as she choked out a garbled 'finally'. He didn't pause, didn't stop, just began moving. Quinn moved with him as best she could, gasping and clawing at his back. He dared any porn star to rival the sound of Quinn's little mewls.

"Come on, baby." He whispered. He was no gentleman but he'd be damned if he was going to take all the pleasure for himself. And besides – watching Quinn orgasm was a delicious thing. "Come for me, Q. I know you're close, baby. Scream for me."

She screamed, all right. He had to cover her mouth so that none of their friends would hear them (not that they hadn't already guessed). His legs buckled a little but didn't fully give way, sparing them a tumble to the floor. It always surprised him how his body made him feel like jelly and stone all at once, wobbly and insubstantial yet unable to move and rooted to whatever spot he was currently in.

There was the sound of excited babbling and a couple of voices (Rachel's and Mercedes', he instinctively realized) raised in a song of some kind (was that _Avenue Q_?) and the world rushed back to him.

"We should get back." Quinn admitted, her voice heavy with regret and leftover contented pleasure.

He let her down wordlessly, reveling in these last few moments alone together. They straightened themselves out in silence, no awkwardness dogging their actions or thoughts.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Ready." She gave him a peck on the cheek. "I love you."

"Love you too, Q." He grinned, following her as she led him back to their friends.

He'd follow her anywhere. He was lost as to what to do with his life, but when it came to her there was no hesitation. If anyone had told him that he, Noah Puckerman, lady lover extraordinaire, would be hopelessly dedicated to a girl like Quinn, he would have laughed them off the school grounds. But now that he saw it with his own eyes, felt it deep within his soul; he knew the truth of it.

And judging by the looks everyone else gave him when they rejoined the group, they knew it too.

**For those of you wondering, the title comes from the expression, "I won't believe it until I see it with my own eyes". Of course, you might not care, in which case I will shut up. After I ask for reviews by batting my eyelashes and pouting.**


End file.
